


Soft Wings

by FullOnLarrie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, Tattoo Artist Louis, Tattoos, blonde louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 19:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/pseuds/FullOnLarrie
Summary: Harry is a Dolly Parton fan who wants to get a tattoo in tribute to her. Louis is the tattoo artist.





	Soft Wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Larrymama15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larrymama15/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Amanda! ❤
> 
> As always, thank you to my incredible beta [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com)!
> 
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> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3, and send me a link so that I can include it in the author’s notes.**
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> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**

“Alright, here we are. B is for butterfly. B is for butterfly.” Harry’s voice is amplified by the loudspeaker and the staticky sound echoes in the almost empty parking lot. “Please wait until the trolley comes to a complete stop before exiting. Please exit to your right, and do not walk in front of the trolley.” The trolley slowly rolls to a stop in front of the gate and the last of the evening guests climb down and make their way through the parking lot to their cars. 

It’s unusual for his entire tram to be empty after only the first two lots, but not unheard of. Doesn’t matter much anyway, Harry has to continue on the same way, stopping at each lot, and waiting for a few minutes, before turning around after Lot E is for Earring, and heading back to the front gate. 

Harry pulls up beside the entrance to Dollywood and parks his trolley. Once the rest of the cars have left the parking lot, he can pull his tram around and park it with the others, but until the park is completely closed down, he has to sit and wait for any stragglers. It’s been a long day. He’d worked the opening shift, and had stayed on for the rest of the night when one of the other tram drivers didn’t show up. Harry stifles a yawn and tries to nonchalantly stretch his arms above his head. He’s going on thirteen hours on the clock and he’s exhausted. Not that he really minds. 

What had originally started as a summer job when he was home from his freshman year at Vanderbilt University, had turned into a sort of obsession over time, and when he’d graduated, he’d decided to come back for one last summer before starting his master’s program. His college roommate Niall had tried to give him a hard time about his Dolly Parton obsession when he’d first met Harry, but then Harry had gotten him a job at Dollywood too, and he sort of saw Harry’s point. When he’d actually met Dolly one evening when Harry wasn’t working, Niall was converted.

It’s just that Dolly has always been so unapologetically herself. From her big hair to her sparkly suits, from her makeup to her music, she’s always fought to be who she wants to be. The more Harry learned about her, the more he loved her. Her support of LGBT+ rights, her love for her hometown, and her love for butterflies are just some of his favorite things about her. She’s so happy, at least she seems that way, and it makes him happy to be a small part of that by working for her, even if it’s just a summer job at a theme park. 

Harry starts to nod off while he’s waiting to get the all-clear. Suddenly his whole body jerks when his trolley wobbles from side to side. 

Standing on the edge of the tram, holding onto the roof, Niall bounces and shakes the trolley with his bodyweight. “Park this bastard and let’s go home.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, just starts the engine to his trolley and pulls around the curve to park in the gap between two of the other trolleys. They’re quiet while they run through their closing routine and soon enough, they’re clambering up into Niall’s truck. It’s orange, with too big tires, and it’s lifted high enough that sometimes Harry leans the seat back so that people can’t see him riding shotgun. While Niall navigates the curves of the parking lot, Harry slips his phone out of his back pocket and turns it on. There’s a voicemail from a number he doesn’t recognize, so he presses play and holds the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Harry Styles. This is Liam from Addictive Ink calling to ask if you’d like to come in tonight. Our ten o’clock appointment cancelled. If you’re interested in coming in before eleven, give us a call back at 865-555-2625.”

Harry stretches his legs out as far as he can and slips his hand under his shirt to rub his stomach. “Hey, Ni?” 

“Sup?”

“You sound ridiculous when you say that.”

“Whatever, man. What?”

“Drop me off at Addictive Ink? They can get me in now.”

Niall nods and switches lanes so he can turn left instead of right at the stoplight, while Harry calls the number back to let them know that he’ll be there in a few minutes. Less than ten minutes later, Niall’s parking his truck between the pancake house and the tattoo parlor. Harry jumps down out of Niall’s truck. Excellent. It’s not even ten-thirty. 

An actual bell that’s hanging from the ceiling jingles when Harry pushes open the door and walks inside. The walls are covered with flash and Harry takes the time to look them over while he waits for someone to come to the front of the shop. A man about his own age swings himself around the door frame and Harry smiles. He kind of looks like a puppy dog, except that he’s covered in tattoos. Harry’s never seen a tattooed puppy. 

“How can I help you?” He walks around behind the counter by the door and starts moving the photobooks around, even though they’re neatly stacked. 

“I just called. Are you Liam? I’m Harry Styles.”

“Oh, yep. That’s me and that’s you. I think I remember you.” He winks and runs his finger down the appointment book. “Says here you have a design picked out already. Did you email it or do you have a copy with you?”

Harry pats his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He’s been carrying the picture around since the summer after his first year at college. It’s his reward to himself for graduating with honors. “Yep, I emailed a scan of it, but, um...” he says as he pulls the worn, folded piece of paper from his wallet. “I’ve got it right here.”

Liam eyes the creased paper and nods. “He might need to redraw it. That okay?”

Harry shrugs. “Yeah, that’s fine. As long as it looks pretty much the same.”

Liam finds the email with the notes about the agreed upon price, and Harry taps his fingers on the counter while they wait for his card to go through. 

“Right. Follow me.” Liam leads him down a brightly lit, narrow hallway, and into one of the rooms. There’s a reclining chair with a table next to it with all of the assorted inks and lotions and other things he’s seen before when he’s been in for his other tattoos. “Have a seat. He’ll be here in a minute.”

Harry slides into the chair. He’s not sure why he feels like he needs to be reassuring, but he does, so he smiles and says, “No problem.” He lifts his hand to wave goodbye and just as he does, someone else backs into the room and leans against the doorjamb.

“Thanks, Li. You can lock up and go home.” 

Liam whispers something and the man whispers back and Harry gets to enjoy the view for a little while longer while they carry on their hushed conversation. Whoever this is, he’s not the same artist who did most of Harry’s other tattoos. Whoever this is, has a nice ass. And it looks… Somewhat familiar. But he doesn’t know any tattoo artists, so maybe he just has the same bum as someone Harry knows. Or maybe Harry has some sort of connection to this bum from another life. Maybe this bum is his soulmate. He scrunches his nose and stifles a giggle.

“’Night, Liam. See you tomorrow.” 

“Evenin’.” Harry has just enough time to avert his eyes and act casual before the guy turns around. “Liam says your name’s Harry and you have a drawing or a picture of what you want?” 

“Yeah.” Harry turns his head slightly and holds his piece of paper out, drops it, and it’s like the entire earth slows its orbit or something. Time slows down. The paper floats in midair. And Harry stops breathing. Because it’s Louis and, oh god, he’s gorgeous. His hair is different. It’s cropped short on the sides—like he’d recently shaved it and it was growing back—and the top and back are longer and almost white, nowhere near the color Harry remembers and much lighter than his eyebrows and the scruff on his jaw. He’s wearing a loose black tank top with tight black jeans that are rolled up at the ankle, and almost every inch of the skin that Harry can see is tattooed. The ones on his scalp look new, and must be the reason for the shorn sides, but the ones on his arms, and chest have long since healed. 

The paper flutters to the floor and when Louis bends down to pick it up and reaches out with his arm, his shirt falls forward and hangs loose exposing the side of his chest, his armpit, and his nipple. Harry inhales sharply. He’s breathing again. Harry watches while he unfolds the paper and studies the drawing. His sharp, white teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and when he glances up from the paper, Harry catches a glimpse of the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. They look exactly the same. His lips look the same too.

Harry sees a triangle tattoo on his ankle when he catches the bottom rung of his stool with the toe of his shoe, pulls it over next to the reclining chair, and sits down. Harry could touch him. He’s right there. And he almost does. He wants to trace the lettering of the tattoo along his collarbones with his fingers. Or maybe his tongue. 

Time speeds up to normal when the man opens his mouth and says, “I’m Louis.”

Harry should respond. Should say something. Something smooth or maybe something funny. He’s usually good at this. At school he’d charmed his way into many a pair of pants. But all he can do is attempt to say, “Hi,” only it comes out all scratchy and weird. He clears his throat and tries again. “Hi. Um… I know you.”

Louis smiles at him, his lips quirk to the side, he squints one eye, and he studies Harry’s face. “Harry? From high school?”

“Yeah.” Harry can feel the heat rising up his neck and onto his cheeks. He wonders if Louis knew he’d been staring.

“Shit. It’s been years. You look… You’ve grown up. How are you? How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good. Just graduated in May, so…”

“Wow, um, that’s crazy. Weren’t you just like… a freshman in high school like, last year?”

“Shut up.” Harry rolls his eyes. “That was eight years ago.”

“Yeah.” Louis taps the folded piece of paper against the palm of his hand. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“Since that party. The one before you moved.”

Six years. Wow. Louis had been two years ahead of Harry when they were in high school and had moved away at the end of his junior year, when Harry had just finished his freshman year. They’d danced around each other for that entire year, but neither of them had ever pushed things past the boundary of their tenuous friendship. Acquaintanceship. They’d never really hung out outside of school and had run with different crowds, so they’d seen each other at the occasional party, and sometimes when Louis had come over to hang out or study with Gemma.

Harry’s first crush and Harry’s first kiss.

“Yeah, um, that was so long ago. We moved to freakin’ Oklahoma after that.”

“Who moves to Oklahoma?”

Louis pushes his stool with his foot and rolls it over beside the chair that Harry’s sitting in, swings his leg over, and sits down. “I have no idea. My parents? No one should though.” Louis chuckles. “So, let’s take a look at this picture.” He carefully unfolds the piece of paper and smooths it out on the table. “Oh, a butterfly. It’s really cool. Do you want it smaller or what?”

“No, I want it that size. Right here.” Harry tugs the hem of his t-shirt up until it’s almost to his armpits. All of his other tattoos are on his arms, but he wants this one right smack dab in the middle of his stomach. He starts tracing a vaguely butterfly-like shape on his stomach.

“It’s kind of creased and parts of the sketch are blurry, so if it’s alright with you, I’d like to redraw it.” The whole time Louis is talking, he’s looking at Harry’s stomach and Harry feels himself blushing again. Still, he tries to stretch out a bit and nonchalantly flex his abs. 

“Yeah, okay.” Harry wiggles a little as he pulls his shirt back down and he watches while Louis’ eyes follow his skin as it disappears under his shirt. Interesting.

Louis. Lou. Louis. Harry wants to say it out loud, but he can’t without being heard, so he sighs quietly. Harry wants him. He’s just so gorgeous. He ponders what he can do to make that happen. It’s got to be some sort of fate, right? Who runs into their high school crush, their first kiss, like this? He’d text Niall and ask for advice, but he’s pretty sure he’d just tell him to go for it. So he decides to go for it. He’s barely planned what he’s going to do, how he’s going to start this grand seduction, when Louis comes back into the room with Harry’s picture, another piece of paper, and the tattoo transfer paper. 

“Hey, I think it looks pretty good, so I went ahead and put it on transfer paper, but take a look.” He hands both drawings to Harry so that he can compare them, and Harry’s eyes bounce back and forth between the sheets of paper. It’s perfect. Even better than the original. Harry loves it.

“I love it.” He smiles up at Louis and makes sure to show his two front teeth. People seem to like them for some reason. “Put it on me.”

“Right.” Louis rolls his stool over, sits down, and pulls his table closer. “Okay, show me again where you want it.”

And the seduction begins. Harry sits forward, reaches his hand back between his shoulder blades, and pulls his shirt over his head. He grins as he leans back again and ruffles his hair. “Here.” He lays one hand on his stomach, right in the middle, spreads his fingers apart, and lightly scratches at his skin. 

Louis clears his throat and hums. It’s working. Harry can tell. “Yeah, um, okay. Let’s recline this chair a little bit and we’ll get started.” He reaches for the lever and the chair back drops, possibly faster than he’s anticipated, because he apologizes even though Harry’s still sitting up. 

“It’s alright. I don’t mind if it’s a bit of a rough ride.” Harry tries for sexy by biting his lip as he lays back in the seat, but the chair must have caught on something because it drops another few inches and Harry bites down too hard, drawing blood, flailing his arms and, well, squeaking.

Louis snorts. “Rough, huh?” He gently presses his hand against Harry’s shoulder and guides him to lie back again. “Relax. Just going to, um, prep the area.” Louis winks and turns away to put on gloves. It’s at this point that Harry sort of wishes he’d kept his shirt on, at least then he’d have something to cover the rising flush on his chest. He closes his eyes and tries to relax as Louis cleans, and shaves, and cleans his stomach again, but he gets goosebumps and shivers a bit. “Open your eyes, Harry. Need you to pay attention to where we’re putting this thing.”

“Okay.” It takes him a few seconds to open his eyes and when he does he finds Louis a lot closer than he’d expected, and it sort of takes his breath away. 

“This is a really big butterfly. Right here?”

“Yeah, right there in the middle.” Harry forces himself still while Louis lays the transfer on his skin and smooths it out. Even through the gloves and the paper, Louis’ hands feel warm and soothing and Harry relaxes with his touch. When Louis peels the paper back, Harry smiles so wide that his eyes almost close. “Perfect.”

“Good. Let’s get started.”

Louis talks him through the first touch of the needle, but once he gets going, he’s quiet. He’s concentrating and Harry can look all he wants without Louis noticing. His focused face is really cute. He’s got the tip of his tongue trapped between his teeth and with the way his head is bent, Harry can see his long eyelashes. They’re like a golden, caramel color and Harry thinks that Louis’ natural hair color is probably closer to that and he wants to reach out and touch his blonde hair. He doesn’t. Instead, he lies there and stares at Louis and wishes he could think of something to say, something sexy or intriguing, but all he can think about is Dolly and how long he’s waited to get this tattoo.

“So, um, Louis?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up from the wing he’s outlining.

“When did you move back here from Oklahoma?”

“I didn’t. I moved to California after I graduated. Lived in L.A. for a while, but then I just missed my family and it’s cheaper to live here, so I came back like, um, six months ago, I guess.”

“Oh. I figured it was more recent. Thought I’d have run into you, but I guess I wouldn’t have since I’ve been in Nashville.”

“Yeah, which school did you go to?”

“Vandy. I’m going back for my master’s in September.”

“You come back here every summer? Why?”

Harry points to his partially outlined butterfly tattoo. “Dolly.”

“What?” Louis stops working, sits back a bit and squints at Harry. “Dolly? Dolly Parton?”

“Yep.” Harry juts his chin out a bit, he’s used to defending his love for Dolly. “I love her. I’ve worked at Dollywood every summer during college and I’ve met her twice.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s really cool. I love Dolly. Saw her at the Hollywood Bowl last year.” Louis smiles and bites his lip, then looks goes back to working on Harry’s tattoo.

“I love how much she loves butterflies. I love that there are butterflies all over the park. The big flower one right inside the entrance is my favorite.” Harry can feel himself getting excited and he’s talking a little faster, but the need to explain himself is there, so he continues. “When I was little, I used to chase butterflies at my grandma’s house. I’d get in trouble for it because I’d just run off, and then I read that Dolly used to do the same thing. It sort of solidified my tattoo idea.”

“I like that. So then it’s something personal to you, but also Dolly.”

“Yeah.” Harry goes quiet while Louis works and he’s nervous now, but he’s not sure why. Louis likes Dolly. Louis said he loves Dolly. They’re a match made in heaven. A match made in the Great Smoky Mountains. And now that Harry knows that Louis likes Dolly, he needs to know more. Does he like to hike? What about rafting? Maybe they can go Kayaking on the Pigeon River. Maybe they can hike up to Rainbow Falls and maybe that’s where Harry will propose. Wait. 

“So, um, what do you do besides work here?”

Harry thinks he might pass out when Louis confirms that he does indeed enjoy hiking, that he likes rafting, but prefers kayaking, and that he’d once tried to take a date to Rainbow Falls, but they’d complained the whole way up and had turned around before they’d hit two miles. Harry thinks he’d want to do all of those things with Louis and he almost tells him so, but instead he talks about Nashville. His home away from home.

“I kind of wanted to be in a city, but not like, a huge one. And the music scene is awesome. I think I might want to live there permanently, but I’m not sure.”

“Nashville’s great. I go to shows there fairly often. Thought about moving there myself, but wanted to come home for a while first. See if I really missed being in a city.” Louis shrugs one shoulder, then gently wipes the blood and ink from Harry’s abdomen and goes back to work. 

“I’d hike it with you,” Harry whispers, which is unnecessary because they’re alone in the shop, and probably difficult to hear over the noise of the tattoo gun. He waits a second and when it becomes obvious that Louis didn’t hear him, he speaks up. “I’d hike it with you.”

“What?”

“Rainbow Falls. I’d hike it with you, but I’d want it to be a date and I’d want to kiss you and… I don’t know.” Harry thinks he’ll blame the long work day and maybe the dull burn of the tattoo for his inability to keep his mouth shut.

“You’re forward, aren’t you?”

“Um…” 

“It’s okay, Harry. It’s cute. And besides, I think I remember you being a good kisser.” Louis sits back and stretches his arm over his head, then switches the tattoo gun to the other hand and stretches the other arm. Harry thinks for a second that he’ll tell Louis that his armpits are sexy, but then he thinks maybe that might cross the line from cute to weird, so he somehow keeps his mouth shut. Which is good because Louis says, “If you’re good while I finish this up, I’ll let you kiss me again.”

“Really?” Harry squeaks and slaps his hand over his mouth. His eyes go wide and Louis nods, so he drops his hand and promises, “I’ll be good.”

He’s not one hundred percent sure what good means, but he’s going to go with still and quiet and hope for the best. With his head resting back, he can almost close his eyes and still see Louis through his eyelashes. It's kind of perfect because it sort of makes everything seem a little dreamy, a little fuzzy around the edges. He studies Louis’ face for a while. Thinks about his beard and how it’ll feel when they kiss, whether it’ll burn after a little while, whether his face will be pink and chapped from it. Somehow that thought leads to Harry imagining whether it would burn if Louis kissed him somewhere else. He lets his mind run away with that thought for a minute before he realizes that, if he continues thinking that way, he’s going to have a situation in his pants. And that’s probably not being good. He thinks. He’s not sure, so he forces himself to thinks of something else.

Tattoos. He’ll look at Louis’ tattoos. Nope. Not working. The one on his chest makes Harry want to lick it, which leads him to think of licking Louis’ nipples, which leads him to think of licking other things, which… Yeah. He's back where he started. He tries to do the circular breathing that he’d learned about in that trial yoga class he and Niall had attended a while back. That helps a little. He lets his eyes fall completely closed and relaxes more with each breath. 

“What do you think?” Harry opens his eyes to see Louis gently wipe the blood and ink away. He asks if Harry wants to take a picture of it. He does, but he wants to stand up first, so he sits up and swings his legs to the side. Louis is still sitting on his stool and he hasn’t rolled away, so Harry’s knees are almost touching him. 

Harry pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it out towards Louis. “Can you do it for me?” 

Louis stands, peels off his gloves, and tossed them into the trash. “Stand over there against the wall.” 

Harry hands over his phone and does as he’s told. He stands straight and tall with his hands clasped behind his back. After Louis takes the picture, he puts on a fresh pair of gloves, and while Harry is still standing against the wall, hands still held behind his back, Louis wipes his tattoo clean once more, spreads some ointment over the top, and covers it with a sterile pad. 

“All set, Harry.” Louis takes a step back so that Harry can come away from the wall, but he doesn’t move.

“Thanks. I… um, I love it.” He catches Louis’ eye, lowers his voice, and murmurs, “Thank you, Louis.”

“Anything for another Dolly fan, right?” Louis tilts his head to the side and grins.

Harry’s clearly failed at his grand seduction. Distracted by Dolly Parton. He should have expected it. He chuckles and bites his lower lip. “Anything?”

“I mean…” Louis’ eyes dart from side to side, like he’s not sure what Harry’s asking. “Depends, I guess.”

Harry steps closer. “Was I good?”

“Oh.” Louis’ eyebrows shoot up, but then he looks down at his hands. He peels the gloves off again and throws them away. “Yeah. I’d say you were.”

“I can kiss you?”

“Well…I’ll give you two options. One: kiss me now and we’ll see what happens. Two: come with me next door to get some pancakes, when we’re done eating, kiss me, and we’ll see what happens.”

Harry pretends to think about it, though it’s not a difficult decision. “I am kind of hungry. Pancakes it is. Is this a date?”

“Sure.” Louis grins. “If you want.”

“How many dates before I can take you home with me?”

“Shut up.” Louis shoves him again. “I’m not telling you that.”

“Do you work tomorrow?”

“No, we’re closed on Mondays. Why?”

“Go to Rainbow Falls with me?”

“A second date? What if the first one goes to shit?”

“It won’t. You already said I’m cute and I’m a good kisser. I also happen to know I’m charming.”

Louis rolls his eyes and tilts his head back to smile at the ceiling. “Fine. Let’s go get some pancakes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! ❤  
> If you liked it, here's a [Tumblr](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com/post/161505694040/soft-wings-by-fullonlarrie-for) post that you can reblog.  
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